


When I Look At You (And You Hold My Hand)

by verucasalt123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: samdean_otp, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, POV Outsider, Sibling Incest, reference to underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjoying a rare night alone in the bunker, Dean and Sam remember how some of their friends found out about their relationship, and wonder if anyone knew and didn't say anything. Reveals are told through outsider points of view, and some react better than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Look At You (And You Hold My Hand)

It was late and they should both be exhausted, considering the amount of sex they’d had in the past couple of hours. They didn’t get the place to themselves all that often these days, so Dean and Sam had taken advantage of it. The kitchen saw the first piece of action, Sam sucking his brother for all he was worth as the cabinet fixtures left little dents in the backs of Dean’s legs. There was a pit-stop in the bathroom that was intended for cleanup but ended up with Sam trembling all over, his head hanging low as he held on to the counter while Dean licked out his hole like it was his favorite dessert. Cleanup did actually occur, it was just half an hour or so later than they originally intended. Finally making it to Sam’s bedroom (which had the larger bed and the sturdier headboard) they were both hard again, in complete defiance of human biology and every theory regarding refractory periods for men their age. At least now that the edge had been taken off, the stamina kicked in and they were able to make it last – and last and last and last. How the hell something on that side of painful could feel better than Heaven (and they’d been there, so they knew) was still unexplained, but Dean didn’t really care and Sam was too dick-drunk and wiped out to think about it. 

Once they were both spent, well and truly spent in the sense that there would be no more sex until they’d gotten a decent amount of sleep, Dean let out a wicked chuckle against Sam’s chest. 

“What’s so funny, babe?” _Babe_. Yes. Because that was a thing that Sam called Dean sometimes, and if Dean said he didn’t like it, well, any pants he might have been wearing would have been on fire as he sat atop his throne of lies. 

“Just thinking…this was always such a big damn _secret_. Because, you know. Incest. Oh, quit with the face, I know you hate that word, sorry. But it turns out nobody really has that much of a problem with it. Isn’t that kind of weird?”

Sam propped himself up on his elbow and replied, “I guess, but we have weird lives. And weird friends. I think if they can handle monsters and torn out body parts and celestial cage matches, a little non-traditional relationship between brothers doesn’t seem so insane in comparison.”

“Yeah, but we may have traumatized a couple of people. I mean, poor Jody. The look on her face…”

*****

Jody Mills was a small woman with a huge heart, as well as an industrial-sized capacity for staying calm in the face of seemingly insurmountable danger. She hadn’t had all that much contact with the Winchester brothers until that horrific year of battling the Leviathan, losing Bobby, and reaching out when she could to the only people who understood. Since Sam and Dean had settled down in Kansas, though, she’d been to visit on a number of occasions. Sometimes for a few hours, sometimes for a few days. 

There was no question about the fact that these two young men had lives that revolved around each other like nothing she’d ever seen before. And let’s be honest, she’d seen a lot. But no one spent much time dwelling on the codependent and fierce relationship these two guys had. Jody knew, from stories Bobby had told her, that the three Winchesters had spent much of their lives interacting with no one but each other; at least, no one human. Even after being separated for the years Sam had been in college (and he’d come so close to finishing, Jody lamented his being pulled away from that even though she understood it had been necessary), he joined right up with Dean again. Priority number one – locate their father. Complete the family. They were a unit, when it came right down to brass tacks, and there was a pull there that was outside anyone’s control. From the way Bobby told it, it was like a crazy orbit – sometimes they crashed together, sometimes they wandered a bit, but the Winchesters were always drawn back together, back to each other. She’d never met the boys’ father (a habit she’d picked up from Bobby, she guessed, always thinking of these two grown men as ‘boys’), but she had a clear enough understanding of the man from stories she’d heard and assumptions she’d made from what she knew about how he’d raised them. Jody mourned for the childhood they could have had under different circumstances, and she didn’t think much of John’s decision to bring them along as he chased his obsession. Sure, he may have thought preparing them for dealing with the supernatural was the right thing to do, the only way to ensure their safety in the life he’d chosen for their family. That didn’t make it acceptable, in her mind, that they’d never really had the chance to be _children_. She figured Dean had gotten a little bit of it, before his mother died, but she couldn’t imagine he remembered much from such a young age. She knew that Dean and John had both put some effort into trying to protect Sam from the truth for a little bit longer than Dean had ever been. Jody suspected that it was Dean’s effort more than John’s, though, the attempt to let Sam get as much ‘normal’ as was possible considering that they lived out of their car and various seedy motel rooms. 

Bottom line, they’d grown up being trained like soldiers, from what she could tell, and those lessons never left them. They’d also grown up with no support system to speak of – occasional visits with Bobby and another family friend (who was now also dead as a result of his connection to the Winchesters) were pretty much the only contact they had with anyone except each other. So it was no surprise that Sam seemed to do nothing without considering Dean, and Dean seemed to factor Sam’s needs or feelings into every decision he made. Even now, after it appeared that there wasn’t much left for them to do as far as the family business went, the thought of creating separate lives wasn’t even on their radar. They’d found this place, learned a little more about their family history, and for once in their adult lives, just stayed still. But they stayed together. Either of them could have tried, at this point, to make their own way in the world. That hadn’t worked out well for them in the past, Jody knew, and neither Dean nor Sam showed any interest in trying it again. 

She’d been there a few times, and always felt welcomed and comfortable. It was clear that the boys were fond of her, whether that was because they genuinely enjoyed her company or because she was a connection to Bobby (or a combination of both maybe), and she was equally as fond of them both. Sam was a little slow in coming back from the physical effects of the trials, but now he was healthy again. Dean still watched his younger brother like a hawk, but each time she saw them, she could tell Dean was settling in with the fact that Sam was really going to be all right. They laughed now, real true laughter; they bantered back and forth, teased each other, split up household chores and finished each other’s sentences sometimes. So they were close – closer than any other set of siblings Jody had ever known, but that was just how they worked. She didn’t judge; they were happy and if any two people on the planet deserved a little bit of happiness, it was Dean and Sam Winchester. 

None of this knowledge prepared her for what happened when she was there for Thanksgiving last year. It had been a nice visit. She’d gotten to know Castiel (Cas, she reminded herself, this wasn’t just Dean’s nickname for him, it was actually what he preferred to be called these days) a little better, and finally had a chance to sit with Kevin and talk about normal things that someone so young would be interested in. After they’d had their fill of the shockingly elaborate holiday dinner that Dean had prepared with only a little help from his housemates, all of them sat around getting drunk on honey-flavored whiskey that Cas had discovered recently and kept a good stock of all the time. Swapping stories and laughing until their sides hurt had them up pretty late, so the whole house slept in the following morning. Jody had gotten up around eleven, head pounding and body demanding caffeine. She was still young, sure, had never thought of herself as _old_ , even when she was spending time with people much younger than she was, but she was pretty sure she was too old to keep up with these guys when it came to drinking until the wee hours of the morning. Forcing herself to wash her face and throw on a bathrobe over her pajamas before wandering out into the living area, she was thrilled to smell coffee already brewing – clearly, she wasn’t the first person awake. Walking toward the kitchen, though, she stopped dead in her tracks when she got to the entrance. 

There in front of her, casually leaning against the counter, Dean was ignoring his steaming mug of morning sustenance in favor of running his hands through Sam’s hair. And this – this wasn’t a teasing gesture, like a guy would tousle his younger brother’s hair. It was more like a caress, and Sam’s expression was blissful, though his eyes were closed. His right arm was firmly around Dean’s waist and there was less than an inch separating them. Dean looked up at Sam, still stroking his hair, then moved his head, closing the tiny gap between them to lay a few gentle kisses to Sam’s neck. Even from where she was standing, Jody could hear Sam’s soft sound of pleasure, like a cross between a sigh and a moan. It almost sounded like he was humming or…purring maybe? 

Jody was frozen in place. She didn’t think it would be the right thing to walk into the room and interrupt what was happening, but she absolutely could not force herself to look away. It was shocking, no question about it. She’d never seen their closeness as a sexual thing, the thought had just never occurred to her. Probably because they were brothers, and no matter how joined at the hip they appeared to be, it was outside her frame of understanding that this was a possibility. Everything she’d ever known about incestuous relationships had negative connotations – it was usually not consensual, hardly ever occurred when both participants were adults, and her law enforcement experience had only shown her complete disaster for whoever was the victim of such activity. 

What was right there before her eyes was unquestionably consensual, and there was no _victim_ of anything. Dean and Sam looked, to her, like any content and loving couple sharing an intimate moment. All of her past experience in relation to incest was being turned on its head by the sight of these two clearly comfortable and happy men (men, she reminded herself again, not boys). Unfortunately, by the time Jody decided it would be best to back up and make another attempt at heading for the kitchen, this time making lots of noise on her way or possibly calling out to alert people to her presence, Sam had opened his eyes and was looking right at her. Nudging Dean in her direction, now they could both see her standing there, basically spying on them when they thought they were alone. Sam moved back a little, creating some space between himself and his brother, but the look on his face was more wariness and concern than anything resembling guilt. 

“Morning, Jody”, Dean said, breaking the silence and giving her a chance to speak. 

“Good morning, Dean. I’m sorry, I – I just came out here looking for coffee, I didn’t mean to, uh, interrupt? Stand here staring when I really should have just walked away?” She was sure her face was as red as a tomato, but she was trying not to make them feel bad; she’d been the one spying, after all.

Sam studied her closely before he joined in. “You’re not freaking out. I mean, you look like you’re freaking out a little (her eyes were probably bugging out of her head, she thought, and she could feel the intense flush on her face, so it was a fair assessment) but you don’t look mad or disgusted. It’s not like this”, he motioned between himself and Dean, “is something most people generally think is acceptable behavior.” It seemed like he wanted to continue, but Jody figured she might as well go ahead and rescue all three of them before things got any more awkward than they already were. 

“I’m not freaking out, Sam. Well, I guess I kind of am, but not because I’m upset or anything. I’m shocked, I really am, the thought never crossed my mind that you and Dean were… _involved_ like this. But I’m not freaking out, not in a bad way.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to eye her with suspicion. “Seriously, you’re not at least going to yell at us for being irresponsible or fucked up or whatever?”

“I’m really not. I mean, I get it, Dean, this is something private and it’s unusual and it’s not exactly acceptable, like Sam said, to most people. But I’d think you both know by now that I’m not ‘most people’. I love you, both of you, I love you like my own kids, if I were old enough to have children your age, which I am certainly not”, she felt compelled to add, “but of all the times I’ve seen you two I’ve never seen either of you look as happy as you did when I walked out here this morning.”

“We are, Jody. We’re happy. Our lives aren’t perfect or anything, but this is the most peaceful we’ve been in as long as either of us can remember”, Sam said, though Jody’s comment had really been a response to Dean. 

“Look, I’m not gonna ask you any questions about this. I’ve got no reason to begrudge either of you well-deserved happiness. Clearly, you’ve never been big into public displays of affection, which is understandable given the situation. But please, don’t feel like you have anything to be ashamed of, or anything you think you have to hide from me. The past couple of years as I’ve gotten to know you both better, I’ve only ever wanted you to find some measure of peace. If you found it with each other, even in a way that’s, well, _unusual_ , to say the least…I’m not going to tell you it’s wrong. You’re both adults, and especially after the life you’ve led, you’re entitled to choose your own path.”

Jody could feel their relief just as strongly as she saw it on their faces. It was clear that it was important to Sam and Dean for her to approve of their relationship now that she knew about it, and she couldn’t help but finally move close enough to them to take one of their hands in each of hers. Just a little squeeze and a smile, and that seemed to be enough for all of them. “Can I get my coffee now, guys? I’m hung over as shit.”

And just like that, the mood was lightened. The two of them weren’t holding each other anymore, but Dean grabbed a mug to pour Jody’s coffee, and Sam opened the fridge to search for appropriate hangover food. The occasional casual touches she’d seen so many times before made so much more sense now, even though she was still reeling a little from being let in on their secret. All three of them went about the business of preparing a proper breakfast, and things felt settled and comfortable. 

It did not escape her notice that neither of them made any effort to stop the brushing of their shoulders or quick linking of their fingers once Cas entered the room in search of his own breakfast.

*****

Sam laughed quietly. “Yeah. If she was a cartoon she would have been doing that thing where your eyes go all swirly. But you know, she was so cool about it. I guess we’ve been lucky. I mean, it’s not like a lot of people know. For such a long time we had to make sure that _no one_ knew, ever”, he said, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “Things have just changed so much. Different people around now…”

They met each other’s eyes and grinned. Both of them were thinking the exact same thing – maybe Jody wasn’t the only person they’d traumatized, and she was so much better equipped to handle it than their other ‘roommate’ in the bunker.

If anyone had taken Kevin Tran aside a couple of years ago, while he was planning out his Advanced Placement credits and carefully choosing the most advantageous extra-curricular activities to be listed on his college applications, and given him a preview of what his future was really going to be like, his head likely would have exploded on the spot. Luckily, when everything changed so suddenly for him, he wasn’t really in control of anything he was doing. One minute he was trudging through homework and talking to his girlfriend, and the next thing he knew he was running around outside a mental hospital in an attempt to avoid being tackled by the largest man he’d ever seen in person. It wasn’t like Kevin had been raised in a religious household, so he was more than in awe when he was confronted with the fact that God was real, Heaven and angels were real, demons were real, monsters were real, monster-hunters were real; oh, and prophets were real, too, clearly, since _he was one_ …it was a little much to intellectually digest in such a short period of time. 

He was compelled against his will to get involved, then he actually wanted to be involved for several different reasons, and of course there was the part where he had no other choice but to be involved because if he wasn’t he was going to die or someone else was going to die or the whole world was going to end or he wanted revenge for what he’d lost. After all that had happened, he thought there was nothing that could shock him anymore. 

That was, until, he was abandoned. As quickly as the Winchesters had invaded and taken over Kevin’s world, they were gone – both of them, and he totally lost it. During his brief bouts of lucidity, the only emotion he could feel clearly was anger. At Dean and Sam, at Crowley, at Heaven and God and the angels. He’d done everything right, and it had gotten him _nothing_. Worse than nothing, it got him pain and loss and misery and frustration. Just when he thought he might as well crawl into a hole somewhere and wait to die, those fucking Winchesters showed up again. If he’d been able to feel sympathy, he probably would have. Objectively, both of them looked like they’d been to Hell and back (again). Dean was clearly damaged worse than he’d ever been in the past, and Sam was drowning in guilt and despair so badly that it was almost a physical presence. The two of them had always had a really strange vibe – being an only child, Kevin had no first-hand knowledge, but even for brothers without any other family, they were awfully tangled up with each other. On the rare occasions that he thought about it, he was certain it couldn’t be healthy. He didn’t think about it often; there were much more important issues to deal with. It would all be over, just as soon as Sam had finished those trials. 

The sense of betrayal he felt on that night the angels started to fall was all-encompassing. At first, he thought he was going to kill Dean Winchester. Not that it would be an easy task, but Kevin was capable of much more than anyone gave him credit for, and the anger that had been simmering in him for so long had turned to pure rage when he found out that Dean had stopped Sam from finishing that last trial. So fucking selfish, but it was typical. Dean could live with Heaven crashing to earth and giving up the only chance of sealing the demons into Hell before he could live without Sam. Tangled up, he thought again, weird, unnaturally intertwined. It couldn’t be changed, though. None of them could turn back the clock and even if they could, Dean wouldn’t have made a different decision anyway. 

Kevin had no place else to go. He spent a whole lot of time locked away in his own room, avoiding Sam and Dean and this strange new version of Castiel. Kevin hadn’t ever liked the angel before, and now that he wasn’t an angel, he was pretty pathetic most of the time. There was no way he was going to take the chance of starting to feel sorry for Cas, so Kevin just kept to himself most of the time. But as things settled down and they all started to accept this new reality, he very slowly began to interact with this strange group of people who were all he really had left. They saw Garth now and then, which was fine; he was a nice enough guy and in Kevin’s estimation just as much a victim of this Winchester bullshit as anyone else. Dean and Sam’s insistence that Kevin stay there with them had helped – it wasn’t like he had a home and a family to go back to, and the brothers seemed to have no intention of going their own ways. No surprise there. They could have, of course, especially after Sam was healthier, but the two of them were probably going to end up living the bachelor life together indefinitely. Neither of them expressed any interest in starting a family of their own outside the odd little self-made family there in this tucked away Kansas hideout. The place was beginning to feel more like a home than a hideout these days, anyway, and the two of them already bitched and bickered like an old married couple. Probably had since way before they’d come crashing into Kevin’s life. If everything they’d been through in the past couple of years hadn’t pushed the brothers apart, it wasn’t likely that anything ever would.

They’d made a habit of doing the occasional movie night lately. Dean was great in the kitchen and they all reaped the benefits of his cooking skills. Especially Sam, who had been very slow to physically recover from the effects of the trials. Kevin suspected one of the reasons Dean put so much effort into learning to prepare healthy meals on a regular basis was because he was, as usual, focused on doing whatever he could to make sure Sam got better. So about once a week, Dean would put together a bunch of snacks, move a cooler full of beer into the living area (no one ever mentioned Kevin being underage, they’d been supplying him with alcohol since he was barely eighteen) and put on whichever movie had been chosen by the person whose turn it was to pick it out. 

This led to many discoveries. The first was that though all four of them had different taste in films, they usually ended up gaining appreciation for new genres instead of bitching about watching something they wouldn’t normally have wanted to. The second was that Cas really liked getting hammered, and was strangely coherent and even kind of funny when he was drunk. 

The third…well, that one took Kevin a while to figure out. In the beginning, Sam was still fairly weak and often fell asleep before the movie was done, even if it was one he had picked. So it wasn’t unusual for him to end up passed out against his brother’s shoulder, Dean sometimes letting him stay there if his snoring wasn’t too loud and sometimes pausing the film to help him up and escort him to his bed so he could get some proper sleep. Sam’s health did eventually improve but he was always still fairly close to Dean physically, even though he was completely alert and awake, even engaged in commentary with Cas when there were things Cas didn’t understand about the story unfolding on the screen. Not like they were snuggling up to each other or anything. At least, not at first. The shift was _really_ gradual, Kevin thought, which was probably why it was a good while before he noticed. But he did, in fact, eventually notice that Dean and Sam kept getting closer. As time went by, they went from sitting closer together to sharing a blanket; sometimes Sam would stretch out and put his feet across Dean’s lap. It wasn’t unusual for them to make quiet comments to each other (presumably about the movie they were watching), but one night Kevin looked over when he heard them whispering and noticed that Sam’s lips were actually lingering by Dean’s ear long enough for them to brush against Dean’s skin. He did a double-take, because unusually affectionate or not, that was just over the line, like, over _any_ line he could think of. Just that one incident had Kevin questioning what the story was, and he found himself sneaking glances at the two of them more often. Now that he knew what he was looking for, it was glaringly obvious. The way they looked at each other, how their knees seemed to always be touching, the gentle brushes of skin against skin when they moved or spoke…none of that shit was brotherly. Not even close. 

Once again, Kevin found himself in the position of being shocked when he thought he’d pretty much seen it all. One night when Cas had gone to bed early, he looked over at Dean and Sam – they were under a blanket, but their hands were on one of Sam’s knees, very clearly linked together. He couldn’t stop himself this time from saying something about it – even though the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “Uh…are you holding hands over there?” The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. They both placed their hands on top of the blanket, separately, and put a couple of inches between them. Sam was the one who responded to him, though.

“I’m, uh, sorry if you’re uncomfortable, obviously we don’t, you know – we’re not exactly open about, um, this whole…thing”, he trailed off, looking unsure how to continue. 

“Uncomfortable? Dude, you two are, like, totally up to not-brother-like action. How would it even be possible for me to _not_ be uncomfortable with that?” 

Dean had his eyes firmly on the carpet, and Sam looked like Kevin had just hurt his feelings. Like he was supposed to just think it was fine for them to be, well, whatever it was that they were. The word for it made him so uneasy that he didn’t even want to think it. 

Probably because Sam had the sad puppy eyes going, Dean decided to jump in. “Look man, I know. I think we’ve been getting a little _too_ comfortable. Normally we’ve always put a whole lot of effort into not letting it look like…well, like what it is. I get it, and I really am sorry. I know neither of us can make you un-know anything, but I swear we’ll be more careful.”

Not sure what else could possibly be said at that point, Kevin just got up and left the room, slammed the door, got into his bed and tried to fall asleep. He could hear Sam and Dean talking and then had a horrifying thought – how could he never have heard them…ugh. He guessed his room being on another level and the two of them making an attempt to be quiet explained that. Against his initial reaction, he found himself starting to feel guilty. He figured he really had hurt Sam’s feelings, and probably Dean’s, too. After everything that had happened (and that was only what Kevin knew about, he was sure there was plenty of other horrible shit he had no idea about), who was he to judge? He didn’t stay in his room long, and when he got back downstairs, Dean and Sam looked pretty damn surprised to see him standing there. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to be a dick, it’s just – well, it’s not the kind of shit you find out every day, especially about people you thought you knew pretty fucking well.”

“You do, Kevin”, Sam replied. “Now you know something new about us, but that doesn’t change anything else, not really. I know this isn’t easy to accept, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t accept it, if you got the hell out of here and never talked to us again. But I figure if nothing else we’ve ever done to you has made you reject us, this is pretty unlikely to do it either. Dean meant what he said, though, we’ll pay attention, we’ll be more careful, like we always have been before. I don’t want you being grossed out or anything.” He sounded sincerely apologetic, and maybe even guilty. 

“Dude, no. That’s not what I came down here to – what I mean is, I don’t want to see you two making out or anything”, internally, he shuddered at the thought of it, “but it’s wrong for me to think any less of either of you because I know…something I didn’t know before. It’s fine, okay? I’m not going anywhere and you’re the ones letting me stay in your home. You shouldn’t have to hide shit from the freeloader upstairs.”

“You’re our friend, Kevin, not a freeloader”, said Dean, quietly.

“Yeah, well, okay, I really am going to bed now. I just figured I should say that.” He went back to his room without giving them a chance to respond. There was nothing else to say, anyway.

Dean admitted, “I think he’s still not really okay with it.”

“He doesn’t have to be”, said Sam. “It’s not like we’ve ever gone around feeling each other up in front of people. You have to admit, though, it’s a little easier not having to hide it from the people we freaking live with.”

*****

With a grimace, Dean said, “Well, at least we never had to make any effort with our other roommate.”

*****

Cas had actually done a little better than he thought he would with the whole learning-to-be-human process. None of it had been easy – not emotionally or physically. But Dean took the time to show him most of what he needed to know for day to day living, and Sam was endlessly patient answering his questions about the many new expectations he didn’t understand and listening to him mourn what he’d lost. He hadn’t lost any of his knowledge, at least. He still spoke and understood all languages and carried vast amounts of information about the world in general. Some days it seemed like not being able to remember what it was like to be an angel would be a kindness. It wasn’t his powers he missed as much as it was his connection to his home. He’d felt it before, years ago, when he’d been temporarily cut off from the Host due to his rebellion, and he certainly didn’t welcome that feeling back. Cas had good days and bad days, just like anyone else, but it helped having Dean and Sam, and even Kevin and sometimes Garth or Jody, around for company. There was no replacement for being practically omniscient and having a constant tie to such a large community (as imperfect as it was), but at least he had this support system in place to help him identify and cope with everyday humanity and the emotions that went along with that. It wasn’t possible for the transition to be easy, of course. It was slightly easier, though, having people close by to remind him of the requirements of being human, teach him to do simple things like drive and make coffee, and learn to navigate life without the abilities he used to have. 

For once, Dean and Sam were the ones who were surprised when the issue of their intimate relationship came up. They’d carefully kept it a secret for years now, and were fairly good at not letting anything slip in front of other people. It must have been second nature for them both, really – saying that two brothers sleeping together and caring for each other in a romantic way was unconventional was a gross understatement. Even in the beginning, when he’d been so foolishly pious and righteous, Cas never mentioned it. There was no point in starting what he knew would be a horribly awkward conversation and honestly it didn’t make a difference as far as their work was concerned; or so he had thought at the time. 

Walking down the hallway after waking early one morning, he ran into Sam leaving Dean’s bedroom and headed for his own. Cas saw Sam’s face turn a bright red in embarrassment as he stood dumbly in front of Cas wearing only a pair of boxers (which may have been his or may have been Dean’s, it was clear that they didn’t really pay attention to that kind of thing). 

“Cas! Hey, uh, you’re – you’re up early. Everything okay? You want some breakfast or coffee or something? I could make it for you. Or, if you want to do target practice, find a book to read, whatever, you know, I can help”, Sam said, his words falling out quickly and jumbled, clearly an attempt to guide Cas’ attention from the fact that he’d obviously spent the night in Dean’s bed.

Just standing there and looking at Sam with curiosity, the truth of the matter dawned on Cas. “Oh. Oh, Sam, did you think I didn’t know?”

Still desperately trying to cover, Sam replied, “Um, what do you mean? Know what?” He was smiling with effort, looking as natural as possible, though Cas could tell it was just an act. 

“About you and Dean. About your incestuous relationship. You can’t possibly believe this escaped my notice for the past several years.”

Sam looked resigned then, knowing there was nothing he could do or say to save him (or Dean, when he finally woke up) from this shocking reality. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? This has to be one of the pretty big sins, right? And,” he added with trepidation, “I really hate that word, just so you know.” 

“Incestuous? It is an accurate descriptor, but I suppose I understand your discomfort with the term, given the social taboo associated with it”, Cas replied, nodding. Yes, he could, in fact, appreciate Sam’s emotional reaction to having his relationship with his brother identified by a word that was viewed with negative connotations. Sam was still just standing there, shifting on his feet and looking uneasy. 

Somehow knowing that this would be easier on Sam if he weren’t standing there almost naked, Cas suggested, “Why don’t you go put on some clothes and join me in the kitchen. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.” Then he just walked around Sam and headed to the kitchen. When Cas heard Sam walking into the room behind him a few moments later, he turned and saw that Sam had, indeed, covered himself up with sweatpants and a plain green t-shirt. He still looked shell-shocked, though, so Cas simply directed him to have a seat while he finished brewing the coffee and fixed it the way they all liked it – Sam with a teaspoon of real sugar and himself with four individual sized packets of fat-free hazelnut flavored creamer. 

It did seem to ease the mood a bit, Sam not being able to control his amused reaction to Cas’ preparation. Dean had always joked that it wasn’t actually coffee anymore after Cas got through with it, after he’d experimented with many combinations until he finally found a way to make the beverage palatable. He preferred it with a splash of Kahlua, but was aware of Dean and Sam’s discomfort with the idea of him drinking alcohol in the morning. Apparently, it was yet another one of those things that _you just don’t do_. When he sat down, though, he could see that Sam was still exceptionally nervous and looking at him with a very worried expression. 

“Sam. Please, there is no valid reason for you to worry about my opinion on this matter. I have known about this since I first touched your brother’s soul; his love for you was one of the first emotions I could feel.”

“Really?” Sam asked, surprised and clearly even a little proud, the ghost of a smile playing across his serious features. “I mean…even then, you didn’t think it was wrong? You were so – I mean, don’t get offended by this, Cas, but you were pretty judgmental back when we first met you. It seemed like you saw everything in terms of right or wrong, according to Heaven’s rules.”

“I am not offended, your impression of me at that time is fairly accurate. We both know I’ve gone through many changes over the years, but you are correct. When I met you and Dean after I took my vessel, I believed without question that the instructions and knowledge I’d gained in Heaven were absolute. Any doubts I had about that came much later.”

“What I don’t get is why you didn’t say anything to Dean, or hell, to me even. It’s not like you were ever hesitant to give your opinion about what Dean and I, or anyone else, did or said when it didn’t have Heaven’s stamp of approval.”

Cas laughed softly, agreeing. “Again, you are correct. I’m sure there were times that I said hurtful things to you both, to you especially”, he winced remembering his treatment of Sam during the year of the breaking seals, “much of it clearly undeserved, but I never considered those aspects. I saw it as my responsibility to point out what I believed to be _wrong_. The reason I never expressed displeasure regarding your activities with Dean was because I never thought it was wrong. There has never been a time when I thought there was any reason for the two of you to change what you had between you. That first year, I remember thinking how much better off you and Dean would both be if you chose to share your intimacy with him instead of with Ruby. And I’m certain I expressed my opinion about your relationship with Ruby.”

“Yes, you did, of course. So did Dean, and I should have listened to you both. Dean would never have touched me when he knew about…” Sam got a faraway look then, and Cas didn’t want this conversation to turn back to guilty feelings, so he continued. 

“There is no value in dredging up past mistakes and dwelling on them, you told me that yourself more than once. I apologize for mentioning that, I was only using it as an example to illustrate my feelings at the time. The point I was trying to make was that not only did I not _disapprove_ of your relationship with Dean, but that I felt you both would have been happier had it not been temporarily changed during that time. What you said about Heaven and its ‘approval’ – well, you’re already aware of the fact that humans have grossly misjudged God’s will for thousands of years. It is true that Heaven would not look kindly upon a sexual relationship between family members if it was not consented to by both parties. A parent taking advantage of their own child that way is unequivocally wrong, since the child has no choice in the matter and has to depend on his or her parents for most of their needs. It is reprehensible for an adult to sexually violate a child whether that child is blood kin or not. Socially, there have always been rules and laws regarding incest, many of them put into place due to the likelihood of genetic defects that could result from any child born of such a union.”

Sam interrupted him then. “If you knew all about me and Dean, though, you know that our relationship began before I was an adult.”

“Of course I did. You were, legally, in the society where you were raised, still a child. However, you were quite capable of making your own decisions and even though Dean was slightly older and often responsible for looking after you, he never forced you to do anything against your will. If he had, I would have known that as clearly as I knew everything else that his soul screamed at me as I raised and remade him. Your relationship with Dean, as complicated as it is, as much as you’ve hurt each other and unintentionally put people you knew and didn’t know at risk as a result of your connection…it’s what you both decided you wanted from the very beginning. Acting on your feelings and taking for yourselves something that made you feel _good_ , feel happy and content even though you lived such a difficult life – there is no sin there, Sam. Regardless of the teachings of some humans, God never forbade two people of the same gender to share that kind of love; you already know that is true. You and your brother have had the attention of Heaven since before you were born; you already know that is true as well.”

“So, what you’re saying is”, Sam said, looking surprised and a little doubtful, “you weren’t giving us a pass on sleeping together because you liked us. You’re saying that Heaven never disapproved in the first place.”

Cas smiled then, glad that his friend was starting to understand. “Heaven does not judge people for loving each other, Sam. The way that you and Dean express and experience your love for each other is not common between siblings, but it is what is right for both of you. You’ve freely handed over your hearts to each other for many years, and that is a kind of trust and bond that demonstrates honest and powerful love. I understand why you might have thought I wouldn’t approve, but I certainly hope that now you know that is not the case, and it never has been.”

Relief washed over Sam’s face, and his eyes were glossy with unshed tears. He seemed unable to respond for a moment, and it was obvious that he felt better for having had this conversation, though he’d certainly been reluctant at first. Before either of them could say anything else, Dean walked past them and directly to the kitchen counter, filling up a steaming mug and taking a sip of his unaltered morning coffee. He didn’t pay much attention to either of them until he noticed the look on Sam’s face. Castiel was completely unsurprised that Dean immediately went to his brother’s side and asked what was going on. 

Since Sam was still silent, Cas decided to answer the question. “Sam was under the impression that I was unaware of your inces-“, he cut himself off, remembering Sam’s statement about his discomfort with that specific term, “of your romantic and sexual relationship. I wanted to make sure he knew that it was unnecessary to attempt to hide it from me, since I am aware of the circumstances and have never felt any disapproval toward either of you just because you express your feelings for each other in an unconventional way.”

Dean dropped his coffee mug and it shattered on the kitchen floor as his eyes darted back and forth between his brother and his friend. Finally, Sam looked at Dean with a genuine smile and wiped at his wet eyes. “It’s okay, Dean. Don’t freak out. Cas gets it.”

Cas figured the two of them would talk about it with each other in private. He certainly didn’t expect Dean to share some kind of emotional moment right then and there; Dean baring his heart in front of anyone but Sam was an exceptionally rare occurrence, though Cas had been witness to it probably more times than most of the people they knew. He quietly got up and left the table; he figured this would be a good time for him to bring his sweetened coffee out to the library and give his friends some time alone.

*****

Sam and Dean got a good laugh over that memory, still lying in each other’s arms. “I don’t know why it never occurred to either of us that Cas would know”, Dean said. 

“Well, like I talked about with him, I figured if he knew he’d blast us with a speech about immorality and sin and fornication or something. You remember what he was like back then.”

“Yeah. This whole thing is so fucked up – not us, obviously – just the fact that people _know_ and they don’t care. Or they don’t mind. Mostly. I guess we always tried so hard to hide it, it never crossed my mind that people wouldn’t flip their damn lids if they found out.”

Sam replied, “Sure, I mean, that used to be true, though. Our whole life was pretending – we were forest rangers, FBI agents, coroners, exterminators…shit, we were priests that one time, remember? It’s not like we could just go up to random strangers, or people we just met, and tell them we were monster-hunting brothers and hopefully they didn’t mind if we slept in the same bed.”

“You’re right about that, I know. The majority of people would never accept our relationship as it is, we just ended up being surrounded by friends who for some reason aren’t bothered that much by it, if at all. Kind of makes me wonder, though.”

Sitting up and taking a sip from his water bottle on the nightstand, Sam asked, “About what? Why our friends aren’t freaking out about it?”

“No, actually, now I’m thinking about how many other people knew, or know now, and never said anything. What they thought, if they figured it out. Like…I don’t know, Charlie?”

Barking out a sharp laugh, Sam’s immediate response was, “Bet you ten bucks she made us within a day.”

Dean smiled for a moment, then agreed, “Yeah, you’d probably win that bet. Not just her, though. Other people, you know, people who knew us for a lot longer.”

Sam cut right to the chase. “Like Dad?”

Groaning, Dean covered his eyes with his forearm. “Christ, Sam, come on! He probably would have cut my throat. At the very least he would have spoken his damn mind about it, he’d have been pissed as hell! You can’t doubt that, seriously? Dad would have lost his shit.”

“Yeah…I mean, I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t **know** , really, or didn’t want to know, but I have to admit there were times I thought he suspected. Not before I left for school, but once we were all back together again. I know it wasn’t for long, and everything was so crazy. But sometimes I’d catch him looking at us like he thought we were hiding something. Maybe not this”, Sam gestured between them, “but – just like there was something we were keeping from him. You know he always had a good instinct for that shit.”

“Hell yes he did”, Dean agreed. “It wasn’t easy to get much past the old man, that’s for sure." Dean thought about how scared they were at first, about their dad finding out, and Sam of course was remembering the same things. All those safety precautions they took; waiting a specific amount of time before they even touched each other so they could be sure John wasn’t coming back for something he forgot, washing the sheets over and over again, leaving windows open regardless of the weather to make sure the place they were staying didn't reek of sex. They tried using air-freshener spray once, and all it got them was their father constantly hounding them both for days because he was convinced they'd been smoking and were trying to cover up the smell. It was nerve-racking for both of them, but not enough to stop them.

Sam set down his water and sat back against the headboard, reaching out for Dean’s hand. “I know. I think what scared me the most was the thought that he would hurt you. That was hard to reconcile, because he never hurt us, not either of us, ever, not more than a swat on the ass if we were acting up, but we’d both seen him do some crazy violent shit, so I knew he was capable. Just the idea of that rage inside of him being turned on you-”

Dean lifted up a little, looked Sam straight in the eyes. “You stop that now, I can see that look you’re getting. It never happened, Sammy, so don’t go imagining shit that might have or could have. See, you’re starting to get yourself all upset, cut it out.”

“You’re right, I know, just – forget it”, Sam replied, shaking off those ugly feelings. He couldn’t help following the same train of thought, though. “What about Bobby? Do you think he knew? Or suspected even?”

“No clue”, Dean said. “Never got that feeling from him, but he wasn’t shy about telling us we were ‘too close’, more concerned about each other than the entire world, whatever.” Dean could still hear Bobby’s words, clear as day, from all those years ago - _What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?_ “Heard that lots of times from lots of people, though. I know we’re not like most brothers, but most brothers haven’t had our life. They haven’t had to make the same choices, live through the same nightmares that we have. So people didn’t approve of us being like two halves of a whole - even without knowing the rest – too bad for them. Been a long damn time since either of us needed approval from anyone else.”

Sam sighed. “Good point, we haven’t needed it, but with all this lately, people finding out about us being together…it’s nice, isn’t it? Having the approval from people we care about, people whose opinions we respect?”

“Course it is. Not that anything’s changed in some ways, I mean, we’ve never been big into PDA; I know it was from necessity at first but even though people know, we still don’t walk around making out on the sidewalk or sitting in each other’s laps, right?”

That got a laugh out of both of them. “You know I love you Dean, but yeah, I can’t really see us making a big production out of it in public.”

Dean had a thought then, and asked in a joking stage whisper, “What about Garth? You think he’s on to our dirty secret?”

Leaning over to bite Dean’s lower lip and lick a long slow stripe up his neck just to make a display, Sam started giggling. “Garth? Of all people? Come on, Dean. He may have come a long way from when we first met him, but let’s be realistic here. I’m sure he’s clueless.”

*****

Garth was a relative newcomer to the Winchester’s lives, much as Kevin was. But he’d known about them before he met them, heard stories from Bobby. He couldn’t believe his luck when Bobby sent him to meet Dean for a case. _A case_. With _Dean Winchester_. As much as he tried, he couldn’t help showing his enthusiasm; he really admired Dean and his brother just from the things he knew about them second-hand. He had a sister, spoke to her on Christmas and their birthdays, but she was eight years older and they’d never been close. The things he’d heard about Sam and Dean’s devotion to each other ran in direct opposition to what he experienced the first time he’d seen the two of them together. Garth couldn’t imagine what had happened to change them from the guys he’d heard all these stories about into these two stone-faced men who couldn’t stand to meet each other’s eyes or be in the same room. It was confusing, but he wasn’t around long enough to make heads or tails of it. As he got to know them a little better, he began to understand how a relationship so intense could run blood-hot or ice-cold in quick turns. Closest thing he could compare it to was the couples he’d known when he was younger who’d constantly break up in the middle of a huge screaming fight then get back together with just as much passion, and keep doing it over and over again. He’d seen the Winchesters at their worst and at their best. Hell, there wasn’t much in his life (his insane roller coaster of a monster-killing life) that had scared him more than seeing Dean point a gun at Sam and recite all the things Sam had done wrong over the years. Until he stood there watching Sam, this strong giant of a man, crumble at the sound of it, practically beg his brother to just go on ahead and kill him if he was really that much of a terrible person. As much as he enjoyed spending time with them and felt there was so much he could learn about the life getting to know the brothers, it was straight up disturbing sometimes watching them interact. Bobby sure hadn’t warned him about that. 

Now, though, they weren’t these larger than life legends he was meeting like a fan, the Winchesters were his friends. He worked with them, sure, and was proud that Dean and Sam both seemed to have so much more respect for his methods now, but he’d also just spent time hanging out. After the trials and the angels falling, shit was bad – real bad, for a good long while. But now that things were, as much as they could be, settling down a bit and there was a place they called home, he visited Dean and Sam when he could, sent them on cases; simple ones at first when Sam had finally gotten healthier. It was rare for Dean to let Sam out of his sight these days, and Garth didn’t blame him. After everything they’d already faced, almost losing Sam to the trials had changed something in Dean. Both of them seemed just a bit more calm, more secure. Those huge arguments were a thing of the past, not that they never fought, because they did, but now they listened to each other. Neither of them ever walked away until the issue was resolved, and there was no leftover pent-up resentment hanging over their heads. It was nice, Garth thought, seeing them like this. Their own home, roommates to share it with for better or for worse (he was still a little freaked out by Cas), friends to check in on them. 

During a weekend visit on his way from a hunt to his own place in Tennessee, Garth passed out early on the sofa while Dean and Sam were researching for him in the library. When he woke up, it was dark; he hadn’t realized he’d slept so long. He got up to take a piss and raid the kitchen, finding a few slices of pie wrapped up in the refrigerator. He could see the light still on in the library and barely heard Dean and Sam talking quietly, so he figured he’d go see if they wanted any while he was making a plate for himself. Something made him stop short, just a feeling as he was approaching the other room. It was easier to hear them now. 

“Yeah, I think this is what Garth is looking for, Sammy. Nailed it again”, he heard Dean say with a little pride. _Sammy?_ Dean never said that unless there was some kind of serious emergency situation, not that Garth had ever heard. Then the reply, clear as a bell. “Lucky you, ending up with a big nerd like me.” That was Sam, laughing, an ongoing joke about him being dorky or something, typical. He almost started moving again when Dean answered his brother. 

“Lucky me, all right”, and Garth knew that tone when he heard it, no question. He knew exactly what it was, and he knew what the sounds he heard right after it were, too. A cut-off moan, a sigh, quiet for a few seconds, a little more of those soft rustling noises, then a reluctant, “Cut it out, Garth’s in the next room, man.”

People didn’t always give him credit for being able to figure things out, Garth knew that, and maybe he’d been a little slow on the uptake here, but he wasn’t too dense to know exactly what was going on in the library. So many little puzzle pieces started falling into place in his memories – the intensity of their emotions toward each other, the protective instinct, the constant push and pull between what was right for one and what was right for both – it was a full picture now where once it had just been pieces. Dean and Sam didn’t just love each other. They _loved_ each other. As many times as one or both of them had gone off to look for happiness somewhere else, they ended up right back together sooner rather than later. Sometimes out of necessity or obligation, it might seem, at first. But underneath all that, the truth was that they needed each other, belonged together, wouldn’t find what they had right here anywhere else, with anyone else, no matter how hard they tried to convince themselves or each other. Garth hadn’t thought about it much, the fact that with the way things were now, either of them could have gone out into the world on their own to make a life for himself but neither Sam nor Dean even seemed to consider the possibility. Again, though, now that he knew what he knew, now that he’d heard what he’d heard…of course they hadn’t. Why would they? Everything Sam needed was right here in this hidden away place in Kansas, and it wasn’t any different for Dean. Garth smiled, a flash of his favorite childhood movie making its way unbidden to the forefront of his mind. A pretty little girl in braids and gingham, looking around at her family and saying _If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with_...

He went back to the kitchen, made a big, loud production of taking out the leftover pie from the refrigerator and heating it up in the microwave, and then he just waited. Sam and Dean made their way to where he was before the timer went off as he knew they would; Dean bitching at Garth for eating his pie, Sam rolling his eyes and laughing. Just like always, a normal evening in the place Dean still liked to refer to as 'the Batcave', two brothers and their friend. Garth didn’t figure there was any point in mentioning what he’d overheard. Yeah, it was all kinds of fucked up, he guessed, if you were going by the standards of people who didn’t know what they knew, hadn’t seen what they’d seen. Now that he understood what it meant, hell, there wasn’t much he thought would be nicer than if there was someone in his life who looked at him the way the two of those Winchester brothers looked at each other. 

Just to piss Dean off, he took the rest of the pie when he left in the morning. He’d be back; maybe one day they’d tell him, or maybe they never would. Didn’t matter much to Garth either way. They were the same two idjits Bobby had told him about years ago, nothing was going to change that.

*****

It was well over a year before Crowley saw them. Still Crowley, he was; didn’t need a real name, an old name, a new name, any name. Wasn’t a whole lot left to him, he thought. There used to be, _he_ used to be, something…important, something big, he remembered some, not all, just pieces here and there. No difference, because he reached for the pieces when they floated through what was left of his mind but could never see them clearly and they were never quite close enough to reach. Now he was just here, and he was small, and he hated being cold, had forgotten what it felt like to be cold somewhere along the way, he must have, because he knew what it was so he must have been cold sometime _before_ , but it seemed like he was cold all the time now. There were days he knew where he was; Kansas, it was the place with the nice people, where you could go if it was cold and they would let you come inside to get warm. The nice people didn’t ask your name, so they probably didn’t mind whether a person had one or not, they just handed out blankets and bowls of stew and hunks of bread if you came to the door. He tried not to let it bother him when he felt an instinct to shrink away from _nice_ , because why would he do that? Never had to worry about someone asking questions and that was good because Crowley only remembered that he was Crowley (or he _was_ Crowley) and that used to mean something but it didn’t anymore. He had scars on his neck and pictures marched around sometimes, followed from his dreams out into the places where his eyes were open again – faces, words, names, places, nothing matched.

But they walked in to the place with the nice people one day, and he was afraid. He could throw that in with cold, he figured, one of those things he knew he might have been in the past but couldn’t recall clearly, and that it was _wrong_ , being afraid, because he was Crowley ( _used to be_ Crowley) and Crowley was never afraid. Not that one from before. 

They were brothers, or lovers, maybe both, no – both, yes, he was sure it was both, they were both. The taller one with the long hair that covered his eyes (those stupid pretty eyes that looked soft but were made of rocks), and the other one with the sharp smile, knives in his smile, shiny and beautiful and ugly and deadly – they were inside him, so fucking close, why couldn’t he think of their names? He’d know them anywhere, even wearing those suits and walking with a boy who was…who was the boy? Crowley knew the boy even though he didn’t remember his name any more than he remembered anyone's name but his own. Oh, and the boy knew him, yes, and he was _afraid_ (of course the boy was afraid, Crowley was…something). Something scary then, not just important, and that was why it was _wrong_ for him to be afraid when he saw the other two, why he wasn’t supposed to feel it. But he knew it when he saw it, because the boy’s eyes got big and his skin paled and he grabbed the tall man in the suit who turned those rock eyes of his away from the nice people and over to him. He didn’t look away from the tall man, or the boy, or the other man, just sat and stared back until they finished talking. There was something in his head, saying _make yourself small again, Crowley, make yourself invisible_ but he could not move. He could hear them talking to each other while they walked over, could hear them talking to him, asking him questions, but he wasn’t telling them a damn thing. No matter he didn’t know their names, he _knew_ them, and they didn’t like him, not even a little. Flashes, when he closed his eyes to them – _a man in a wheelchair, blood, paint, liquor, screaming_ – they were killers, is what they were. Crowley was as sure of it as he could be of anything. By the time he opened his eyes again, they were gone and the nice lady had come to ask him if he knew those policemen. No, no, _nonono_ , that wasn’t right, so they were liars too, and he told her that – they weren’t policemen, they were murderers and they were in love with each other, the two older ones, the brothers. 

Like Bonnie and Clyde, the nice lady said, and Crowley smiled because she was laughing, like she made a joke, and you’re supposed to smile, it’s just what you do when someone makes a joke. He wasn’t _stupid_. And he wasn’t crazy, either, but then why could he still hear them talking after they were already gone? Low like a whisper, _What do we do? Nothing to do, look at him, he’s no danger to anyone – How do you know it’s not an act? I’m well-versed in crazy hobo, kid, and that guy’s not the king of anything, not anymore. Let’s just get out of here. What about Castiel – Aw hell, no, don’t tell him, he’ll make us come back and do something with him_ until it faded away under a sound like thunder and growling.

The king of anything? There were no kings in Kansas. 

But then, there were no angels, either, and those men said the name of an angel. How did he know that was an angel’s name? How did he hear them, those pretend police brothers who loved each other but were killers and liars, after they were already gone? The king? The king of what? Another flash - _red eyes, smoke, a pretty girl all lit up from the inside, nothing where it belonged_ \- he needed to sleep. Tomorrow, Crowley thought, he’d remember. 

He was the king of something, he must be, because the liar said he wasn’t.


End file.
